


Chikan

by TheLaughingManic



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte
Genre: Groping, M/M, Reveal, Sexual Harassment, Trains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-29
Updated: 2011-10-29
Packaged: 2017-10-25 01:31:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLaughingManic/pseuds/TheLaughingManic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mihashi encounters a chikan on the train.  An Oofuri kink meme fill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chikan

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Mihashi getting groped and harrassed on a bus by a stranger. I like the idea of Mihashi getting fondled on a crowded bus/train by a stranger (or can have a surprise reveal). Can have sex too :D
> 
> Chikan is Japanese for a street/train groper.

Mihashi gasped.  

He had felt a hand brush his hip.  Biting his lip, he tightened his grip on his bag strap, and reminded himself that it was the morning rush hour, the train was crowded, and it was probably just an accident. 

Then his eyes widened as the hand returned, very deliberately, to rest on his hip.  Mihashi shifted sideways, trying to dislodge the hand but it only gripped tighter and actually yanked him back against a very warm body.  Mihashi squeaked, blushing heatedly.

He could hear the person behind him smirk as he started to rub Mihashi's hip in slow, languorous circles.  Mihashi gulped, trembling as he wondered what he should do.  His mind blanked though when he felt the hand glide backwards towards his rear and started to gently caress up and down his inner thigh, cupping his cheek each time. 

Mihashi squirmed, body flushing as he grew increasingly uncomfortable with the whole situation.  As his face heated up, he prayed harder and harder for his stop to come _soon_.

Except the new practice field was unfairly far from his house so he still had a while to go.  Mihashi gulped again.  Not for the first time, he wished that the school’s baseball field was open during the summer.

He tried turning around to see who was feeling him up only for the hand to suddenly grip his hip painfully.  Mihashi gasped and immediately stopped, tearing up a little.  He was bewildered, scared, and starting to panic, not to mention unbelievably hot in the crowded train.

The hand grew bolder.  Two fingers started to rub in between his legs, up and down and up and down, sometimes leisurely, sometimes vigorously.  Mihashi’s breathing quickened as he squeezed his legs together, unable to deny any longer that the constant friction was turning him on. 

Mihashi gasped again when the first hand was joined by a second, this one rubbing suggestively around the front of his pants.  He shut his eyes, horrified and ashamed that this was happening to him.  Cracking one eye open, he glanced around hoping no one would notice his humiliating predicament.

So preoccupied with his shame that Mihashi didn’t even notice when one hand unzipped his pants until he felt a warmth lightly cup him from outside his boxers.  He moaned a little before swiftly covering his mouth with both of his hands, eyes wide in mortification.  Meanwhile, another hand deftly untucked his shirt and crept up his chest to gently tweak his nipple.  Mihashi whimpered behind his hands and squeezed his eyes shut again, tears softly trailing down his heated cheeks. 

The body behind him shifted a little, forcing Mihashi to turn until he was pressed tightly against the glass of the train doors.  Mihashi’s eyes popped open and stared at his frightened reflection as the body started to very slowly grind forcibly against him.  Before he could do anything though, the hand in his pants darted inside his boxers to gently but firmly grasp him, stroking up and down unhurriedly.  Mihashi gasped and panted into his hands, eyes drifting shut once more as he tried his best to muffle the embarrassing noises.  To his utter shame, he started to tentatively grind into the hand, body now desperate for more stimuli, for more pleasure. 

Over his overheated, hazy state, Mihashi could faintly hear the doors on the other side sliding open and the overhead voice politely announcing the station.  He strained his ears weakly, trying to hear over the massive herds of people stepping off if this was his stop or not only to be distracted by a long, simultaneous pull on his nipple and squeeze on his member down there.  He groaned loudly into his hands.  He was so close, so so close—

“Mihashi?”

The pitcher froze, eyes flashing open.  He started to quiver for a different reason as he slowly registered that voice. 

It couldn’t be, it couldn’t be, it couldn’t be—!

His heart beat rapidly in his chest as he stared downwards unseeingly.

Of all the people in the world who had to catch him like this, it can’t be—!

Before he could glance sideways to confirm his fears though, one hand zipped up his pants while the other spun him around to face the chikan.

Mihashi’s eyes widened in surprise.  “Ha—!” he gasped before the guy leaned down to kiss him, aggressively invading his mouth with his tongue. 

Then just as quickly, the guy let go.  Mihashi collapsed on the floor of the train as he watched Haruna whisper something into Abe’s ear before dashing out of the train with a smirk.  The doors closed behind him.

Abe, for his part, looked furious to the point of exploding.  His entire face was flushed a bright, heated red.

Dazed and confused, Mihashi wondered why he felt a throbbing in his pants until he glanced down and realized with trepidation that he was still raging hard.

Scrambling up, he scuttled into the corner, trying to hide his mortifying situation.  Abe was still glaring murderously at the train doors even though the train had already moved beyond the station. 

The train was still crowded but there weren’t as many people as before, Mihashi noted.  Looking up at the route map, he tried to figure out how many more stops there were only to realize that he had no idea where they were. 

Glancing nervously back to Abe, he gulped and hesitantly asked, “A-abe-kun?  H-how many mo-ore stops till, till . . . we a-arrive?”

Abe blinked and shook his head, bringing himself back to the current situation.  Which only served to enrage him even more.

“Mi. Ha. Shi,” he bit out, slowly turning to face his pitcher.  Mihashi immediately started tearing up and threw his hands over his head; Abe’s scowl was one of the worst he’s ever seen.

Except he didn’t realize that if his hands were protecting his head, nothing was covering his pants.

Abe opened his mouth to let loose one of the greatest Abe rants in his entire life when he noticed Mihashi’s “condition”.

“That bastard couldn’t even give him the mercy of a finish,” he muttered darkly, all his anger at Mihashi’s stupidity and foolishness ebbing away.  He’ll yell at him later; right now, there were more pressing matters.

Mihashi looked up in surprise when, instead of the diatribe he was expecting, Abe only grabbed his arm and dragging him through the crowd of people, pushed him through the door into the space in between the cars.  The shaking of the train was more pronounced here and jostled the two constantly.

Abe released him and turned around, gruffly saying, “Here, finish yourself.  I’ll stand guard so no one comes through.”

Mihashi nodded shakily and arranged himself accordingly only to break down on the floor crying.

Abe flipped back, exasperated, concerned, and confused.  “What—what’s wrong?  Hurry up and do it!”

“I-I c-c-can’t,” Mihashi sobbed.

“Why!?”  Someone could come through at any moment and on top of that, their stop was coming up soon.  Abe was quickly losing patience.

Mihashi only shook his head limply, unable to explain how ashamed and dirty he felt every time he recalled what had just happened.  It was to the point that he couldn’t even touch himself despite how painfully hard he was.

Abe sighed in frustration, pacing the very small space before finally deciding to sit down behind Mihashi.  He wrapped his arms around the smaller boy, hugging him to his chest before leaning his head over the other’s shoulder.

“Your hands, Mihashi,” he breathed into his ear.  Mihashi shivered slightly at that, a strange pleasurable thrill tingling down his spine.  He complied, intertwining his fingers with Abe’s.  Closing their eyes, they sat there for a few moments, recalling their meditation exercises as they breathed in and out deeply.

Then Abe loosened one of his hands and unzipped Mihashi’s pants.  In a rare moment of communication, he paused and waited.  The smaller boy bit his lip but eventually nodded.

Abe kept his eyes closed to give Mihashi some sort of privacy as he gently but quickly began to stroke his pitcher.  Mihashi panted softly and quickly climaxed into his catcher’s hands, confused as to why Abe had a stronger affect on him than Haruna.  Really, Abe only had to touch him for his heartbeat to quicken.

Fishing some tissues out of his bag, Abe passed a couple to Mihashi before turning around and wiping his own hand clean.  He stood up and waited for Mihashi to compose himself before helping him up as well. 

They walked back into the car just as the train arrived at their stop.  As they got off and strolled out of the station, Abe quickly examined his pitcher to make sure that the whole ordeal wouldn’t detract from their practice that much.  Mihashi was shaky, a little fatigued, and definitely affected mentally so he’d have to go light on him today.  Abe scowled and cursed (that bastard) Haruna again.

But at least Mihashi was okay, Abe added.  At that thought, he smiled a little.  He didn’t understand why it had terrified him so much when he boarded the train to see Mihashi flushed and crying, very obviously muffling his voice with his hands.  Then to see the whole situation ( _chikan!_ ) and to see exactly _who_ was behind it (Haruna!?)—well, to put it bluntly, he wanted to kill something (more specifically, some _one_ —

And walked right into his pitcher.  Stumbling back, he asked worriedly, “Mihashi?”

The smaller boy was just standing there, shoulders hunched and hands gripping his shirt in a characteristic fashion. 

What was it now?  Abe’s irritation started to grow again.  They were already running late, Momokan was sure to chew them out, and they really didn’t need any more interruptions.  He looked around, gaging that they were about three-quarters of the way there.

He approached the pitcher, nudging him and snapping, “C’mon Mihashi, we’re already late and Momokan will—asdfghjkl!!!”

Mihashi had spun around and latched unto Abe’s neck, gingerly pressing his lips to Abe’s.  Then just as quickly, Mihashi darted away.

Abe only stood there, stunned.  A blush rapidly spread across his cheeks as he unconsciously touched his lips. 

They tingled in a strangely pleasurable way.

 


End file.
